Solipsism
by PrestigiousP
Summary: A young boy tries to rationalize the disappearance of his friend. A short one-shot based on the Lavender Town suicides.


Before she was gone, she told me that she sometimes thought the things she saw weren't real. Like, the friends she had on the playground – like me, and like her pet meowth, or her mom. I didn't really know what she meant. I tried to know, really, because she sounded sad when she talked about it, but if I wasn't real, then how could _my_ mom be real?

She played on her xylophone a lot – the same song. But she must not have been very good. She only played three different notes over and over again in the same order.

If nothing was real, how could she hit the xylophone? Or hear the song? Or taste lemonade? Or candy? Maybe she didn't, and that's what she meant. If I couldn't taste candy, I'd be sad too.

Mom says we won't see her again, but she won't tell me why.

I don't see a lot of my friends anymore. I wonder if she thought they were real. Maybe she was the one who wasn't real, and that's why I'm here and she's gone. I wonder, if no one is real then does that mean everyone's going to leave me one day? Wow, I don't like thinking about that.

Is that a tear?

I'm going to go home and ask Mom.

* * *

"Mom?"

"Yes Dear?"

"Are you going to leave one day too?"

She's not saying anything. Why is she looking at me like that? Is she gonna cry?

* * *

I heard Mom talking on the phone today. She said, 'I bet it's the tower. Kids shouldn't have to live around so much death. Hell, _I've_ never liked living so close to it.' I have to make sure I only curse in my head. Last time I forgot, Mom was really mad.

Anyway, I forgot to ask her what death means before I left for the playground.

The tower is so big, and I love looking at it from the swing, but it scares me because Mom says there are pokémon in there that don't move anymore. Sometimes I see pokémon that don't move close to the playground, past town where I'm not supposed to be. It's weird. You can poke them and poke them and they don't wake up. One kid says that happens to everything. Agh! I was gonna ask him if it happens to people too but I forgot!

I need to take more vitamins. Mom says vitamins help your memory.

But I can't tell Mom about the pokémon that don't move either, or else she'll be mad that I went that far.

The other kids tell me ghost stories all the time too because they think I'm a chicken. They really do scare me, but I will never admit it!

* * *

Wow, this swing is taking me really high. I wish my friends were here to see this. I still wonder where they are. I guess it's for the best because I should go home soon. Mom doesn't want me out by myself so much anymore. I think she's afraid I'll leave too. I don't know why. I don't know where I would go.

Brr. It's cold outside. It gets dark so soon now.

I think I can see the top of the tower – if I get really high!

* * *

"Mom, I passed by her house on the way back from the playground. It was pretty dark, so I could see inside. Her mom didn't change out of her pajamas today! Isn't that silly?"

...Huh? Mom's got that look on her face again. I'll keep trying to distract her.

"Mom you would never let _me_ wear pajamas all day, would you?"

I'll giggle to try and cheer her up...

It didn't work. She's looking really hard at the buttons on my pajama shirt. She must be concentrating. She always gets mad at me when I don't listen. It's not fair.

"She just misses her daughter a lot," Mom says. "I'd miss you that much too if..." She looks down. What was she going to say?

I don't think these pajamas fit me anymore. I'm bigger than I used to be.

Ow. Mom's rough with the comb. I could do it myself, Mom. I'm not a baby anymore. I'm not going to say anything though because she still looks sad from before. Kind of like my friend did before I didn't see her anymore...

…

I don't like that feeling, when I think about Mom leaving. It's gross way down in my tummy. What would I do without Mom, even if she's not real? I _can_ comb my own hair, but I would let her do it if it keeps her around. Agh, I think my eyes are getting wet again. I don't want her to think something's wrong. She might think I'll go soon too.

This is so hard. I just wish my friends would come back. I wish everything was the way it used to be, and we could play gym leaders like we used to before. So many of them are gone now. Mom said we won't see them anymore, but I think she means it for real – like we won't see them _forever_ forever.

They must not have been real.

"I love you."

Yuck! She just kissed me on the head! What the heck, Mom?

* * *

Mom's been coming into my room at night and climbing into bed with me. I don't mind. She makes me feel safer, but she's always been stern with me when I ask if _I_ can sleep in her bed. 'You are old enough to sleep by yourself,' she'd say. 'What will your friends think when you turn nine and you're still sleeping with your parents?'

She's acting really weird lately. I shouldn't be worried because moms are weird sometimes. But all of my friends were acting weird too and now they're gone...

Ugh! Grow up! I can't be sad about it anymore, but I have to do something. I'll put my arm around her just in case. Maybe it'll keep her from leaving too.

* * *

It's spring now. It's about time. Winter was hard and boring and lonely.

It's gonna rain tomorrow!

Mom says we're moving to the city. I guess I'm okay with it. I don't have a lot of friends left around here anyway, since so many of them turned out not to be real, or something. I still don't know if I know what that means. They were real to me – I thought at least. I could touch their skin, and we'd spend hours together on the playground in the summertime, until the sunset even! Everyday!

How could that not be real? How could they just leave?

But it looks like we're just leaving now too. Mom says we can come visit, that it won't be forever like with the others, but it still feels the same. She says we can have a fresh start, and I can make new friends, but I don't get it. Starts aren't fresh like fruits and vegetables. I'll still miss the friends I have here, and the ones she says I won't see again but won't tell me why.

I really like vegetables – but I can't tell Sam from down the street because I have to worry about my reputation.

I'm going to try and think like her. I've been trying to real hard since Mom told me I wouldn't see her again. _Nothing's real. Nothing's real. Nothing's real._ But I still like vegetables, and lemonade, and candy, and my mom. My friends too, when they're around. So I want it anyway, even if it's not real.

It matters to me.


End file.
